


H2Oh Shit

by orphan_account



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Modern AU, everything is awkward, lifeguard AU, the meet-ugliest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 05:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5993761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Showing up to mandatory First Aid re-certification late and hungover isn't the best way to make a good first impression. Luckily for Lexa, the second impression Clarke makes is even worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	H2Oh Shit

**Author's Note:**

> "Lexa has to become CPR certified before she can actually do anything, so she goes to mandatory CPR training, where Clarke (who ironically cannot swim) is the instructor. anyways later Lexa has to resuscitate Clarke using the CPR training she received from Clarke" - @dearsheroozle

"I think this is the room," Lexa whispers, poking her head through the door. "Yeah, it is, come on."

"Just a sec-" 

"I already gave you a couple hundred seconds, Ahn. Need I remind you that you're the reason we're late?" 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." She drains the last of her coffee and tosses the cup in the trash before trailing after Lexa into the classroom. "At least I'm not the one being a hungover asshole."

"Because you're probably still _drunk_."

"Those of us who are just arriving, grab a manikin and find a spot on the floor, please," the instructor calls from the front of the room. Lexa makes eye contact with her and stops in her tracks.

“Your gay is showing,” Anya whispers, shoving at her back, and Lexa swallows hard before hurrying towards the manikin bags, tossing Anya a head and chest piece before grabbing her own kit and settling down.

"I guess we're starting with basic single-rescuer CPR?" Lexa glances across to another pair who're already halfway through a cycle. "Looks like it. Alright-"

"I can think of something better we could start with," Anya interjects, mashing her manikin's face against Lexa's cheek.

"Oh, come on, grow up." Lexa bends over and starts compressions, singing to herself in her head as she goes. "I'm ignoring you."

It's a few minutes before Anya's "this guy's kinda hot, don't you think?" gets her attention, and she glances over to find Anya straddling her manikin."

"Bro, _stop_. That's obscene."

"But I'm resuscitating the patient," she says with wink.

"No, you're sticking your tongue down a dummy's throat. Stop it, she's headed this way," she hisses, smacking frantically at Anya's arm, "please _, stop_." The instructor comes to a standstill in front of them and Lexa sits up straight, her hands in her lap and her face bright red.

"How're you two doing over here?"

"Fantastic," Anya answers chirpily, somehow keeping a straight face as Lexa blushes even darker.

"That's not how it looked from back there," she says, crossing her arms over her chest and staring down her nose at them. "This isn't a joke. I thought you guys would understand that. First aid is life or death. There's no room for dicking around or half-assing things. If this is how you're acting in a classroom setting, I don't even want to _think_ about what you'd be like at work. Frankly, I'm terrified for everyone who'll be under your supervision."

Lexa keeps her eyes on the floor, mortification blooming in her chest, but Anya raises her chin and steps forward into the instructor. "Thanks for the input," she snarks, "really helpful. Don't worry, we know how to do our jobs. If you accidentally drown in our pool, we'll make sure to pull you out before your corpse gets _too_ bloated."

"Ahn," Lexa cautions.

Anya takes a step back and waves the instructor away. "Go on with your lesson, blondie. We'll keep up."

The instructor eyes them one last time before heading back to the front of the class, and then Lexa turns to Anya. "What the hell, man?"

"Settle, I'm just ragging on her. Here she is getting on our cases when she probably doesn't even know how to swim."

"Well, can you lay off her a bit? I'd really like to get recerted in one go this time, thanks."

"No worries, Lexie-Lex. Got your back, I'll stop annoying your little crush."

"I don't-"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, kid."

* * *

Lexa pulls her bucket hat lower over her brow and scans her quadrant, her fingers tapping out an unconscious beat to the music pumped out over the loudspeaker.

 _Unattended child swamped by waves- wait, mother there. Boy clinging to wall- no, playing. Group of teens-_ "Hey, off his shoulders! Yeah, I'm talking to you, down!" _Girl standing at the start of the decline, watching friends splash each other in the deep end. Girl slipping out of tube- no, she's got it, she's fine. Group of kids flailing in the- wait, that's fly, they're trying to swim fly. Girl underwater slightly down the decline as friends-_ shit.

Blow whistle. Off chair. Grab torpedo. Run. Jump. Land. Ankle turns. Where- there. Time waves. Torpedo under arms. Bring to surface. Primary survey.

Her fingertips slip under the victim's jaw, searching, searching-

"Lexa, you good? Hey, Lex, you good?" Anya shouts from the side of the pool.

She doesn't feel anything. "It's a major! I need you in, I can't find a pulse!" Her toes hit tile and she gets her feet down, transitions easily from swimming to walking as she keeps moving towards the shallow end. Anya joins her and gets her arms under the girl's legs, and they pick up the pace. "Let's move, let's _move_."

"Watch her back there."

"Out of the way!"

"Let's get her up clear of the wet zone."

"Nice and slow, nice and steady."

They lay her out on the concrete and Lexa drops to her knees, her skin shredding as it scrapes across the rough surface but she ignores it, her fingers going to the girl's pulse point as she holds her cheek by her mouth and watches her chest. "Still no pulse, and she's not breathing."

"Starting compressions," Anya chips in, lacing her fingers and lining up over the sternum. "One and two and-"

Lexa glances up from tearing her fanny pack apart in search of her mask when Indra and Tris slide to a halt beside the victim, spine board and med kits slung over their shoulders. "Indra, get the defib set up, Tris, you're on crowd control. Find her friends, get us a patient history. _Fuck_ , where the hell is my mask?!"

"-and four and thirty," Anya finishes, loud and clear, and Lexa bends back down to the victim.

She slides one hand under the girl's chin and holds the top of her head with the other, tilting her head back and lifting her chin. She pinches the girl's nose shut and bends down. The girl's lips are chapped and plump against hers, but she pushes that to the back of her mind, her eyes flickering down towards her breasts to watch for movement as she exhales. The breath goes in and her chest rises, and Lexa sends out a voiceless thank you before giving another breath. "That's two."

"We've got a name," Indra interjects, pressing the bag valve mask into Lexa's hands as Anya resumes compressions. "Clarke Griffin."

"Okay, okay," she replies, fumbling the BVM into place on Clarke's face as Anya finishes her round of compressions.  She squeezes the bag slowly, watching again for the rise of Clarke's chest as Indra takes the trauma shears to her bathing suit. Blood burns up into her cheeks as Indra and Anya pull the spandex away and position the AED pads on bare skin, and she has to shake her head and bite her lip hard to maintain her focus, because _damn_ \- _no, Lexa, no_. "That's two," she squeaks, releasing the bag.

"Okay, hands off, AED's analyzing." They settle back on their heels, Indra's hand hovering over the box by Clarke's hip, and Lexa takes advantage of the pause to get a better look at Clarke's face.

She hadn't recognized the name, but when she gets a better look at the victim, there's something familiar about her despite the pale skin and blue-tinged lips. "Ahn, it's her, it's the girl."

"It's who?" Anya asks as the AED spits out "shock advised".

"The one who taught us CPR."

"I'm clear. Lexa, you clear? Anya? We're all clear? Clear!" Indra slams her hand down on the AED button, and Clarke jolts slightly before Anya snaps back into compressions.

"Seriously, it's her?" she grits out, and Lexa's stomach turns when she hears the crack of cartilage at Anya's thrusts.

"Yeah," Lexa confirms as she bends forward again, and her hand goes back to Clarke's chin to reopen her airway. Clarke cracks her eyes open slowly as Lexa shifts her head and peers up with her, and Lexa's fingers go to her neck, searching out her pulse. "She's conscious, pulse is weak and thready," she calls out, looking back down at Clarke, "still not breathing-"

Clarke vomits in her face.

"We need to get her on her side _now_ ," she shouts, grabbing at Clarke's far shoulder with one hand as Anya goes for her torso and hip. "One, two, three, _turn_."

Vomit keeps spilling from Clarke's mouth, and Lexa pats at her arm in what she hopes is a somewhat comforting manner; "keep it up, Clarke, get it all out," she murmurs, trying her best to ignore the fact that the vomit is puddling around her bleeding knees, "it's gonna be okay, you're gonna be okay. I promise, you're gonna be okay."

"EMS incoming," Tris calls from above them, and Lexa strokes at Clarke's hair, "see, Clarke, you're gonna be fine."

The next few moments are a blur as they transfer off care, and before she knows it Lexa's sat up on the table in first aid with Ontari bent over her knees, swabbing at them with antiseptic wipes. She winces at the contact, and Ontari arches an eyebrow, smirking at her. "We both know these are alcohol-free, Lexa. You're not fooling anyone."

She groans and tips her head back against the wall, only to receive a face full of towel accompanied by Anya's hearty laugh. "What," she growls.

"You might want to clean yourself off," she says with a grin, "you've kinda got a little something-" she gestures at her whole face "- just there."

"Oh, fuck _off_."

* * *

"Yo, Lexa?" Ontari ducks her head through the door between First Aid and the breakroom. "There's someone here asking for the 'girl who got puked on'?"

"Go fuck yourself," she retorts through a mouthful of her sandwich. "That's still not funny."

"I'm serious."

"And I'm on break, I don't have time for you screwing with me just because you're bored."

"Says her name's Clarke?"

"Okay, fine, but if you're messing around again, I'm gonna-" she rounds the wall into First Aid and her threat dies in her throat. "Oh. Uhm, hey. Hi. Hello." Ontari snorts from behind her, and she flips her the bird as she nods towards the door. "Let's talk outside?"

She leads Clarke out the door and comes to a halt, knocking her hat off to hang from her neck by its string and scratching absently at the back of her head. "I'm Lexa."

"Clarke. Though you knew that already. I think we're probably way past introductions, what with the whole…" she gestures awkwardly between them.

"I usually only let girls I've been dating for a couple months throw up on me, but I figured I could make an exception for you." Clarke stares at her. "Yeah, that was supposed to be a joke, but…"

"Still not funny, huh?"

"Probably gonna need a couple more days," she says with a shrug.

"That's understandable." Clarke swings her bag from her back and digs through it for moment before pulling out a Tupperware. "I, uh, made you cookies. Well, not so much me as my housemate. You wouldn't want cookies I'd made. As a sort of thank you, I guess. For saving my life. And an apology. For throwing up on you. And for what I said at the recertification. You guys proved me wrong rather spectacularly." Lexa nods slowly, almost dropping the box when Clarke shoves it nervously into her chest. "Uhm, if you ever get to the point where you find it funny, maybe you could give me a call?"

 "I'll think about it," she promises with a laugh, "gotta give you your Tupperware back at some point, right?"

"Right. Yeah. Well, I'm gonna go…" She takes a few steps backwards towards the entrance gates.

"I kinda need your digits if I wanna call you," Lexa calls out after her.

"Oh, right, yeah. I'll-" she moves back towards Lexa, digging through her pockets and pulling out a pen. "Arm?" Lexa holds her forearm out and Clarke scrawls a number down. "Okay." She pauses, then fists her hand in Lexa's pinny and tugs her forward, going up on her toes to press a kiss to Lexa's cheek. "Thank you, again." 

"You're welcome," Lexa says faintly, her hand drifting to her cheek. She watches Clarke head for the park gates with a smile until Anya slings an arm around her neck and startles her out of her reverie. "Hey, what the hell?"

"Oh, Lex. Lexie-Lex, Lex. I thought you had _game._ Apparently not, 'cause that had to be the single most awkward encounter I have _ever_ seen."

"Fuck off," Lexa replies, but there's no bite behind the words, and she cracks open the Tupperware as they head back towards the breakroom. "Cookie?"

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up at hawkeyesticks.tumblr.com yo


End file.
